I cared about Seraphina, but there had been a reason I pushed away before. There was a reason I still felt compelled to push her away.
I cared about her and would always care about her. But I couldn’t keep doing this to her. Or to me.
Especially when I should be completely focused on the mission and finding Terletov.
Honestly, we didn’t have time for each other or to wade through the thick tangle of hurt and love that seemed synonymous with us.
I lay down on the couch that took up an entire side of the room and toed my Pumas off. I grabbed a throw from the armrest and made myself comfortable.
Or tried to.
The couch didn’t feel right. Not when I remembered what it was like to sleep on her luxurious bed. We had occasionally fallen asleep together on this couch after watching a movie or consuming copious bottles of wine. But I remembered always waking up sometime during the night and carrying her to the bedroom where we would both be more comfortable.
I couldn’t do that now. She was already in the bedroom and I had been abandoned to the lumpy exile of the tan sofa.
I didn’t know how much time passed as I lay there and stared at the ceiling. I talked myself in circles and tried to come up with however many reasons it took to keep from doing what I wanted to do most.
I’d already talked myself out of following her in there a hundred times. I reasoned that she was familiar, and that’s why I wanted to go in there. I told myself it was her feistiness. I swore it was because she had pulled away more than ever before and I was nothing but a petulant child that wanted what he couldn’t have.
In the end, the reason that made my feet plant on the floor again and my legs push myself into standing and move toward that shut door was sleep.
I needed sleep.
And I couldn’t get it on the couch.
I opened the door as silently as I could and used every ounce of stealth I possessed to creep across her floor like the stalker I was.
She lay on her usual side, perfectly poised for me to crawl into bed and wrap my arms around her. I felt a little mad as I did just that.
I pulled back at the last second and forced myself to be content with simply lying beside her. I wanted nothing more than to touch her… hold her. But I knew waking her up would be a huge mistake. This moment was beautiful for me. Familiar.
I felt like I’d come home after the longest journey away.
And waking her would shatter every peaceful second. She would undoubtedly kick me back to the couch and probably file a restraining order.
I watched for a while longer. She was always beautiful, but in sleep, when her defenses were down and her carefully built mask put away for the night, she was magnificent.
I had never seen anything lovelier.
Soon, the restlessness that plagued me in the other room receded into a drugging tranquility and my eyelids began to drift close.
I gave one last mental effort to move back to the living room, but quickly dismissed the idea when she moved closer to me.
There would be hell to pay in the morning, but sometimes the journey to hell was sweet enough to make the price worth the penance.
This was confirmed several hours later when Seraphina’s shrieking jolted me awake. I had only a moment to react before she kicked me out of bed with enough Magcially reinforced strength to push me into the far wall and leave a Sebastian-sized dent.
While I groaned on the floor, holding my manhood and Seraphina’s point of contact, she flew out of bed in her deliciously skimpy pajamas and raced to the bathroom.
I only had a few blissful seconds to stare after her impossibly long legs before the bathroom door slammed shut. I blew out a breath of relief that my suffering was over and lay back against the cold wood floor.
I had just started smirking at the ceiling, deciding last night’s reward was well worth all of the trouble, when Seraphina reemerged from the bathroom in a knee-length robe. She carried a decorative pitcher full of something steaming.
My mind registered scalding hot water just a second before she dumped it on me.
I squirmed and screamed like a girl while she gloated above me.
“Never again, Sebastian! I only let men into my bed that I’ve invited! And you are not one of them!”
And then she disappeared again.
My skin cooled and my smile reappeared.
Worth it.
Chapter Twelve
Seraphina
“I know what you’re trying to do and I should tell you, it’s not working.”
I glared at the idiot that dared to speak to me after I woke up with his chest pressed into my back and his arms snaked around my body, one hand tightly splayed across my belly, the other cupping my breast.
Was he serious?
“What am I trying to do?” I seethed.
“Murder me with your Psychic thoughts.” He turned around on his barstool and grinned at me. “As you can see I’m rather impervious to that particular method of homicide.”
I stood up. He was right. Glaring at him was definitely ineffective. Wrapping my hands around his neck until I stopped his airflow however…
Roxie grabbed my wrist and yanked me back into my seat.
“Not so fast, Killer. We need him.”
I made a growly sound in my throat.
“You need me.” Sebastian pointed at me condescendingly.
“I don’t need you.” I gestured at the rest of our small group. “They need you. I’m fine if you jump out of this plane and try to fly. That would be fine with me.”
“Try to fly.” He chuckled as if I’d said the funniest thing ever.
I looked around at the rest of the cabin filled with my supposed friends. They all tried to hide their own smiles. Apparently we were entertaining to them.
Or I was.
“I can’t believe you all!” I hissed at them. “Your fearless leader is a pervert and you find it hilarious!”
Titus threw his head back and barked out a laugh. “You say that like it’s news! We’ve always known he’s a pervert. Always.”
I nearly choked. “What!”
“Well, er, at least perverted,” Titus amended.
I slammed my arms across my chest and tried not to scream. With no help from anyone else on this stupidly small plane, I turned my attention to the Atlantic Ocean.
Miles and miles below the luxury jet, the water appeared in a solid blue streak of paint. Clouds in puffy bursts of wispy white and gray were the only things to interrupt that sapphire brushstroke.
We’d met at the Omaha clubhouse earlier this morning only to decide to leave for Morocco right away.
Sebastian had argued that our biggest priority had to be securing all of the Sources. Terletov had managed to get two under his control. Eden controlled two. That left three Sources up for grabs. I worried that even if we managed to beat Terletov to the remaining three, the Kingdom would forever be wounded because of what he’d taken. We still had to try.
And out of the three Sources left, Morocco appeared to be the biggest threat.
I just hoped Terletov hadn’t already gotten to this one too. So far, our mission was zero for two.
Not the best average.
We needed to shut this down and fast.
My mind kept jumping back to that ominous vision I’d had of the world completely falling apart. I wanted to be a part of this mission about as much as I wanted to rip my own toenails off with a pair of pliers. And I wanted to be near Sebastian even less than that. But that vision…
I couldn’t let that happen.
And because I was the one to see the end, I felt a strong sense of responsibility to take down Terletov. Whether that was a rational feeling or not, it was mine.
I needed to be there. I needed to see it happen. I needed to make sure this world, my Kingdom, my friends weren’t in danger any more from this monster’s sadistic plans.
“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” Roxie comforted me a few minutes later.
I shot her a look. “Listen, I got a rise out of him this morning. I doubt he’s simply trying to return the favor.”
She nearly choked on her laughter. “What do you think he wants? Does he want you back?”
I looked over the seats in front of me toward where Sebastian sat with his back to me. He still talked with Titus in an obnoxiously animated conversation that I had a feeling was about me.
I shook my head. “I don’t know what he wants. But I’m sure it’s not me. Especially not after all this time.”
She studied my profile while I watched Sebastian. I could tell she wanted to say something, but held back for some reason. She didn’t really need to. Roxie and I had always been painfully honest with each other. It was one of the reasons I knew we could always trust each other, but we’d never be the closest friends.
Everyone had a limit to how much honesty he or she could handle. Eventually, it stopped being refreshing and got rather annoying.
That’s how Roxie and I functioned together. We looked out for each other completely, but there was always a hint of irritation when we interacted.
Sebastian turned around and caught me staring at him. He didn’t seem surprised and I wanted to verbally defend myself, but I held my tongue.
Everyone here already thought I was a little crazy. No need to confirm their suspicions.
He held my gaze until I looked away, back out of the window and away from whatever it was I saw reflecting back at me.
I needed to banish all thoughts and feelings for Sebastian Cartier. And I needed to do so quickly.
Two hours later, the plane descended into a remote airstrip in the Moroccan desert. There was no official Immortal outpost in Morocco. Unlike Romania and India, a palace had not been erected over the top of it.
Legend said that this was because Morocco was a wild place when early Immortal civilization spread its first explorations. It also said that our Magic was looked on as a threat to the early culture of this country. Where both India and Romania embraced our differences, Morocco sought to burn us at the stake and grind our bones to dust.
That’s right, we were the original Salem. Those poser witches had nothing on us.
Xander landed the plane with all the expertise his cheating Magic gave him. He had used the airstrip that the Kingdom always used, and up until this moment, had seemed so random sitting in the middle of the desert.
Soon, I had stepped from the cool cabin of the plane to the dusty heat of the desert. The hot sun beat overhead with an unforgiving light and a hot wind blew sand over me with vicious intent.
I pulled my billowy, cotton scarf over the top of my head and then tossed one end over my shoulder so it covered my mouth and nose. I slipped on my oversized sunglasses and adjusted my turquoise Henley. I used Magic to erase all of the disorientation jetlag gave me. We’d been traveling so much over the last few days, I needed my energy to ground me.
I was slightly irritated with our detour through Omaha. Especially because of the trauma I’d woken up to this morning.
However, I was glad for access to some more of my practical clothes. I’d only packed what I had in Seattle and since I hadn’t been on a long-term mission in a while, my Seattle wardrobe was severely lacking. Omaha housed all of my more utilitarian clothing options.
My khaki cargo pants and this long-sleeved shirt were light and cool, easy to move in and nearly indestructible. Everything I needed for this sandy mission.
Maybe they weren’t the cutest clothes I owned, but it wasn’t like I was trying to impress anyone on this trip.
I felt the Magic in the earth almost immediately. It started as a faint buzzing that tripped over the edges of my consciousness. The longer I stood with my boots in the sand, the more I became aware that something was trying to get my attention.
My Magic responded with its own vibration and soon my heart pounded in tandem with the energy in the air around me, in the earth beneath my feet and with my own force.
It wasn’t a physical thing. I wasn’t a Titan and didn’t possess the skill to actually “feel” Magic, but I could experience this. I could sense it. I could close my eyes and get lost in it.
The Magic belonged here.
And this Magic was still healthy and whole.
I breathed in deep and let the Magic take hold of me. There was healing power in this. Not the kind of healing that Eden could whip out with her blue smoke, but something more intrinsic, something deep down and hidden. Wounded, broken places inside of my soul, the damaged pieces of my heart, the bitter, exhausted parts of my mind… they felt the soothing caress of this Magic.
It was honestly remarkable.
I looked around as my team stretched and explored the endless sand. A second plane circled overhead and we moved out of the way for the Titan transportation.
Once the second plane landed and the armed Titans disembarked we gathered around Sebastian and Jericho. They gave us our designated coordinates and we took off.
There was supposed to be a sandstone altar or something out here. The runway had been here for as long as any of us could remember. The Kingdom used it whenever necessary, but honestly, nothing of necessity brought us to the middle of the desert.
The altar was supposed to be a landmark of some kind. Similar to the Immortal Fountain in the Citadel, it was supposed to be a shrine to the original Oracles.
Nobody had seen it in centuries though. We thought it might be covered in sand by now or torn down by Berbers.
We spread out, rather isolated from each other, as we followed nothing but instinct and Magic. I wandered away from the evening sun and made footprints in the sand that were quickly wiped away with the wind.
I had nothing to go on but the pull of something greater than me. I could feel the humming beneath my feet, the buzz over my skin, the whisper of greatness just beyond my immediate awareness.
The wind picked up and the flying sand obscured my vision. I pulled the scarf tighter around my face and squinted through my dark shades. They were more of a visor against getting sand in my eyes than anything else and without my Magic, they would have made it difficult to see.
I crested a particularly high dune and looked out over the vastness of the desert. There was nothing but sand for miles and miles and miles. When I spun around, my teammates and the Titans with us spotted the rich orange sand, but other than that, there was nothing but sky and sand in every direction.
I sucked in a dusty breath and felt despair pit in my stomach. How could we find something ancient out here? It was probably covered in centuries of sand, buried in a place we would never discover.
Something tugged at my spirit, pulling me deep into the folds of sand and desolate isolation.
I was a little nervous to walk out of sight from the rest of my group, afraid they would never hear from me again. But we all carried GPS devices to help us return to the plane. Besides, the Magic called strongly and I couldn’t help but respond.
I thought about calling to Olivia and Jericho, who were to my right, but I didn’t. I had started to enjoy my alone time out here. It helped me think. Breathe.
My thoughts became clearer and the voice of the Magic became more audible.
I felt my own Magic swirl around me, energized by something I couldn’t see. I had this strong sense of purpose and direction. I felt it swelling inside of me, electrifying my blood, pounding against my chest, inhaling and exhaling with every breath into this epic, climactic moment.
And then I tripped.
And then I epically tripped.
I managed to face-plant in the dune. Even through my scarf, I inhaled way more gritty sand than I ever wanted to. And it didn’t stop there.
The dune was steep enough that when my body flew forward, the momentum followed me and I just kept falling. I tumbled in somersaults down the massive incline in an unforgivably clumsy way. Head first and then my ass would follow. I couldn’t manage to find a foothold or grip on anything because as soon as I reached out
for something, the sand would shift away from me and I would pick up speed.
My Magic seemed useless against the sand-snowball my body created. There was no slowing me down. I felt my cheeks heat from an embarrassed burn and I swore to myself that once I reached the bottom of this dune I would leave Morocco and never come back.
Finally, I bounced to a stop at the bottom of an immense mountain out of sand. I rubbed sand out of my eyes and choked on the same filthy stuff until I could breathe again. The sky swirled in a dusky blue overhead and the wind rushed against my ears.
It took me a while to get my bearings and even then I felt stuffed with sand in all of the important places. I couldn’t hear right, my tongue was disgustingly dry and dirty and my eyes stung from the residual grains I hadn’t managed to extract with my equally grubby hands.
Damn it. So much for professional.
So much for purpose-driven.
I pushed myself up on my elbows and surveyed my new surroundings.
I rolled over so I could crawl to my feet, but my disastrous gymnastics routine down the dune wasn’t enough for fate.
My body landed on something seemingly solid. Instantly I realized there was something beneath the sand, right before the ominous crack boomed through the air around me.
It was a roof, I realized a little too late. A roof to something thirty feet beneath me.
And it collapsed with my weight.
I crashed to the ground in a pile of splintered, weakened wood and sand. My landing created a haze of dust that puffed up like a mushroom cloud above me. I choked and sputtered from the fall and lack of clean oxygen. Hazy light filtered through the speckled air and I looked up at the sky again praying there was nowhere else to fall.
A face appeared above me and I groaned in protest.
“Sera!” Sebastian hollered. He threw himself over the broken ledge and jumped the long distance. He landed on his feet like a cat and before I could blink he was at my side. “Are you dead?”
“Yes,” I croaked. I sent my Magic spiraling through my body. I needed to heal. And fast. That shit hurt.
“What happened?” I tried to glare at him, but my body hurt too badly. I could hear the bastard’s laughter in his voice and when I finally faced him, he wasn’t even trying to hide his smile!
The Redeemable Prince Page 13
